Revenge
by Eli Sunday
Summary: When a man is murdered, his 17 year old daughter, Ilaria Corleone, siezes the opportunity to do what she had always been wanting to do: become a Donna, and seek revenge against the murderer. Feedback is most appreciated.
1. I

**I .**

She placed the flower on the white marble box. The orange and yellow leaves fluttered quietly from the tree above and landed softly, peacefully, on top of it. She didn't bother to brush it off; it fit so well with the rose that she didn't want to disturb it. Stepping back, tears began to inaudibly drizzle down her pale face. The young girl wanted to wipe them off, but no matter how many times she tried, the warm water still would come back. Michael placed his arm gently around her waist. She didn't even bother to look up at his tender face; she just kept staring blankly, and silently, at the ground.


	2. II

**II.**

This came as a surprise to me…sort of. It was going to happen soon enough, being a Corleone and all. I just never realized that anybody hated my father as much as Vito did. I chew on my lower lip every single time I remember the very moment my mother told me he was gone. Two blows to the head and chest, the fatal wound coming from Vito's hand. My eyes and heart burned in hatred for that family.

I sought revenge.

It was perfect. They didn't suspect a thing. Nobody suspected anything, really. I was a 17-year-old 3rd Generation Italian girl living in 1947 Staten Island. Nobody even knew that I knew my father's line of business. The women of the family were never supposed to know about it. But after a while, I caught on. Short hours, loads of pay, suits for every occasion. Everybody thought I was clueless, and were completely wrong. I knew everything any Mafia man needed to know to get around in the business. I would sneak into his personal things, making sure to clean my trail while I was at it. It seemed so interesting…and I wanted in.


	3. III

**III.**

Most of my life I grew up with no siblings. My older brother died of an unknown, yet fatal, disease when he was only 6-years-old. After me, my mother said, "Enough was enough," leaving my father with no legacy. My cousins worked under another family name and were not able to take over his position if he ever died. Boy, did he want to become a Don. It meant so much to him. He loved his line of work and wished his family would continue it after his passing. I knew this, due to the fact that I read his journal from all of his hits.

I could not speak of this, much to my disliking. I wanted to be my father's legacy. I wanted to become a Donna. I was headstrong, brilliant, and cunning. I knew enough to get me around without being questioned. My shooting skills were amazing. Young men were lined up for just a conversation. Nobody noticed me, though. My passion was taking over my body, but I had to keep quiet. My heart shattered inside my chest. I was dying to get a grasp of what it was like to be in a man's job. The money, the power, the respect. That's all that I requested. And there was only one place I could get this: the Mafia.


	4. IV

**IV.**

Ilaria crept silently down the stairs into the dark and empty basement. She reached up and grabbed the string and pulled. The single light bulb flickered and guided her way towards the far wall. Ilaria put her hand on the cold metal and quickly wrapped her bathrobe tighter around her. She felt a slight draft coming through the window next to her. She looked, but saw nothing, and turned back to the gray box that was facing her. He hand moved up and down the side of the locker, moving dust particles back into the air. Gliding her hand, Ilaria went to the combination lock and turned the knob. Left 03. Right 22. Left 30. Her father's birthday unlocked the secret that had been keeping her from getting to sleep for the past two weeks.

"It's time." Her conscience repeated itself many times as she lied in bed, staring at the ceiling. She wanted to do it, but couldn't find the right opportunity to do it. She didn't feel right. Tonight was different. She had decided it was time.

Ilaria lifted the handle to open the locker. The door creaked loudly, causing the girl to jump around to the basement entrance. Not a sound. She paused, waiting for the confirmation to return to her discovery. Her breath was smooth and warm, creating steam that flowed into the air as she slowly released each breath. Nothing came, and Ilaria turned around to finish what she was doing.

Shadows filled the black walls of the box. Her eyes widened, her heart warmed. She grabbed the leather case and opened it up. Her hand was shocked by the sudden cold metal that she was gripping, and pulled out a solid black Ruger Pistol. Inside with it was a piece of white paper, addressed, "Ilaria Corleone, my beloved daughter." Ilaria's eyes widened and sparkled. A smile grew across her face as she ripped the seal and opened it.

"Ilaria.

I know your secret. I have always known since you had become a young woman. Your mother had always thought that I was left with no legacy. She was incorrect. I have one. I want you to become the Boss of the Corleone family business."

Tears formed in Ilaria's warm brown eyes. She started laughing in amazement and excitement. She thought she had snuck around without being caught. She had much to learn.

She continued reading the letter, rereading each sentence to make sure what she read was true.

"Your mother still doesn't, and must NOT know about this. If I shall be killed, you must take over. At my funeral, which you will have after my passing, a man named Antonio will be there. He is the only other man that knows of this. He is my best hit man, and my best friend. He will give you all the arrangements and take you out to dinner. He's young, but don't let him touch you or I will haunt him for the rest of his goddamn journey.

I love you with all my heart,

Dad"

Ilaria folded the piece of paper and placed it in her robe pocket, next to her heart. She held the gun in her hands and held it close to her chest. She could feel her father's spirit in it. The warm salty tears let loose and strolled down her face as flew towards the basement door. She reached up naturally and pulled the string. The light flickered out as she closed the door behind her. She had to get back to bed. The funeral was the next afternoon.


	5. V

**V.**

The tears burned her chilled cheeks as Ilaria fell to her knees in front of the marble casket. Her head fell into her hands, keeping the tears from dripping down onto her dress. Anthony was the last thing on her mind, but the young girl still felt a slight anxiousness fill her mind.

A soft hand was softly placed across her shoulders. It felt like Michael, she wanted it to be Michael, slowly dragging her head to his knee and grabbing on with blind affection. She dug her face against his knee. She loved her father, and he was all she had left. He was her cousin, but he practically was her father now and she couldn't even think about losing him too. She held on and let out a few silent sobs that were hiding deep inside her soul. All the other Italian women quietly gazed on, their heads down in mourning and prayer, maybe even thinking about her. Ilaria didn't want pity. She wanted Michael. And Anthony.


	6. VI

**VI.**

I looked up to see how Michael was reacting to the over-exaggerating emotions I was showing. Did he believe me? Whatever he thought, I didn't care. I'm sure he knew what was going to happen to me. But it wasn't Michael's soft brown eyes looking at me. It was him. His eyes were equally calming, if not more, and instantly sent a soothing feeling throughout my body. I wasn't embarrassed. He seemed to care and knew what I was going through. Or he knew the crap I was pulling and didn't even question my reasons.

Without a word Anthony squatted next to me and slowly moved his right hand in front of me. My eyes met his, and I just held the nice feeling. He was young, and was a calming sight to see. Just looking at him, I knew what he was going to do and why. Without a second-guess I placed my hand into his, gripping gently, and letting him lift me off the leaf-covered ground. I didn't look behind me, I just let him lead me to a dark blue Mercedes. It was a beauty, and so was he. He opened the front passenger door and let me slide in myself. With a smile, he closed the door and walked around. I didn't look at him; I looked back at the tear-gripped sisters and sisters-in-law and grandmothers and granddaughters and the silent men who stood next to them.

The car started with a nice purr, leading us down the road to unknown territory. Not a thought was going through my mind. I just stayed still. It must have been at least ten minutes when the still air was interrupted by the angel-like voice of the young driver.

"I take it you know who I am." He was trying to break the tension by attempting the art of sarcasm and stating the obvious.

I didn't reply. I didn't even take an acknowledging breath.

He could tell that I wasn't in the mood for conversation, no matter how much I actually did want to.

"That was quite the show you put on there. Have you ever thought of working in the Cinema Industry?" Now he was just being downright rude.

"Look. I just came with you because of my Father. I want to be a Donna like you wouldn't believe. Now just give me the information he gave you and my orders and then I'll be through with you." I didn't budge, but I let my voice hit him as if I was talking to him face-to-face.

Anthony let out a choppy laugh. "Well, aren't we Daddy's little girl? Don't you worry, doll, as soon as we get to my house I'll tell you everything." I felt his head turning towards me. Once again, I didn't even bother with looking at him. I disliked the man immediately. Out of seeking comfort I reached into my pea coat pocket and felt the gun's sleek metal on the tips of my fingers. As much as I would love to shoot this fella right now…

The man's laugh grew louder. "I've never met a broad who's always on the prowl like you are! It's alright, you can take your off you gun and placed back onto your leg there."

I didn't even want to respond. I was just hoping the car would stop soon and I would be let out. I felt like a caged tiger pacing back and forth in anticipation for its release. Lucky for me it was sooner than I expected. The uncomfortable air was making me feel slightly icky. I wanted out and to get my father's position as soon as possible. Anthony was making it worse.


	7. VII

**VII.**

Ilaria didn't even realize that the car had stopped; Anthony opened her door, catching her off-guard. He stretched his hand out to help, but she blew it off and jolted out confidently on her own. He gave her a look of attitude and shut the door a little bit harder than usual.

The young woman took strong steps towards the door of the apartment. She stopped, not feeling right.

"You know I'd hate to do this to you. You're quite the looker, and your father was a good man. Fortunately my father's the best." Ilaria's thoughts froze. This hadn't even come to her, being the victim of her own selfishness. The cold head of the gun brushed through her hair. It was her time. She turned around quickly, and fell just as soon.

Anthony paused. The grey cloud had brushed in front of his face, as he breathed it inside his nose, as if he was smoking. Placing the gun in its holster he looked at the poor girl, lying in a red pool. It was his second hit, and his father would have been proud. However, he started to like her, but it did not make him feel bad for what he had done. He felt better, knowing that he had beaten his hit before she was able to get to him.

He turned around and walked away, as if nothing happened. It was just another hit, like the one preceding. He was one hit away from being a Don. If only she knew, maybe she would have understood.


End file.
